


I Meant It Figuratively, Bro

by papesdontsellthemselves



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: HE IS, Halloween, Haunted Houses, Haunted Trail, M/M, Spooktober, albert works at a haunted trail, race pretends he's not scared of them, spot's spot, they're all chaotic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 10:30:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16366196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/papesdontsellthemselves/pseuds/papesdontsellthemselves
Summary: Albert works at a haunted trail.  Race and Spot go to one.  The rest is history.





	I Meant It Figuratively, Bro

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really hopped up on caffeine. Enjoy!

In hindsight, Racetrack Higgins didn’t know why he had agreed to come on this haunted trail with his best friend, Spot Conlon. He never liked haunted houses or anything of the sort. They were loud, flashy, overpriced, and not really even scary, so why bother? But Spot loved them and he loved Spot, so here he was, hand clasped onto the other man’s hoodie as they walked through the mock circus portion of the trail. 

“Remind me why you like this shit again?” Race hissed in Spot’s ear as a scream rang out in the distance, followed by what sounded like a chainsaw.

“I’m an adrenaline junkie, man, it’s thrilling,” Spot whispered back.

“It’s not even scary,” Race countered, “It’s a rip-off.”

He heard Spot scoff, “Not scary, huh? Bet you were thinking that when you screamed like a little shit when that one dude grabbed your leg in the mirror room.”

“He touched me!” Race whined, “I wasn’t expecting him to touch me.”

“Okay, Racer, whatever,” Race could tell Spot was rolling his eyes, even from his place behind him.

They continued in eerie silence for a little while longer. The circus tent seemed oddly quiet for an attraction so big. The lighting in the room was dark, yet fluorescent. Green, red, and white stripes lined the walls and if Race looked his at his clothes, the white on them glowed. Glass cases with fake, demon clown heads were scattered throughout the room and stuffed circus animals hung from the ceiling. It was cheesy, but creepy considering how alone it seemed in there. They were just nearing the exit when a guy dressed as a zombie clown jumped out from a hidden door, blow-horn in hand. 

A shock of red hair caught Race’s eyes as he reeled backwards with a shout, “Oh, fuck me!”

“I mean, sure,” The clown said. But before Race could process, let alone answer what the clown had said, Spot was pulling him outside.

“Dude,” Spot laughed, “What were you saying about these things not being scary? Christ, you shoulda seen your face!”

Race hit his shoulder and pouted, “Shut up. He surprised me.”

“That’s the point,” Spot said, smirking.

“Fuck you, how much more is there to this trail?”

“I think just the woods,” Spot said, already walking ahead.

Race jogged to keep up, “Oh, I’m gonna kill myself, okay.”

“You’re annoying, c’mon.”

Race reached forward and grabbed Spot’s hood again as they neared the forest. There were papers on the trees that looked suspiciously like the notes that appeared in the woods in the Slenderman game that they used to play. Nothing happened for the majority of the trail, save for the notes getting more alarming in content. A chill went up Race’s spine as speakers that were apparently hidden in the bushes began playing what sounded like thundering footsteps.

“They literally re-created Slenderman,” Race murmured.

“Yeah, it’s kinda cool to be honest. They did a good job in-” Before Spot could finish, the sound of a chainsaw cut through the silence behind them. Both boys startled and turned towards the noise, only to see an actor, dressed as Slenderman on stilts, running towards them.

“Oh, come on!” Race complained as they began to run away from the actor. The chase lasted for a few minutes until they spotted the exit to the trail. 

Just as they were about to leave, they heard the Slenderman actor laugh and call out, “Thanks for coming! Hope y’all had a good scare!”

“Thank you!” Race and Spot called back in unison. 

“I gotta pee,” Spot declared as they walked back towards the food and drink area of the trail park.

“Okay, I’ma just wait by the picnic tables,” Race said. Spot nodded and strolled towards the porta potties across the field. Race wandered for a bit until he found an empty picnic table. He zipped up his jacket as the wind picked up and sat down, pulling out his phone as he did so. He entertained himself by scrolling through Instagram for a bit, but when ten minutes passed and Spot still hadn’t returned, he began to feel out of place. The wind got steadily stronger and Race was now shivering. He glanced up to see if Spot was anywhere around him, then decided to move to the bonfire that the staff had set up and wait for him there. On the way there he pulled out his phone to let Spot know where he went, but promptly crashed into someone while not paying attention to where he was walking.

“Oh, shit, sorry,” He cursed, looking up to see a familiar head of red hair. His eyes wandered away from the person’s hair to find a pair of warm brown eyes. It was the guy from the circus tent.

“Ohmygod,” The guy said. He was dressed in regular clothes now, but there were still smears of clown makeup on his face. It looked like he had tried to wash it off, but gave up halfway through. Despite that, the guy was rather attractive. He had a charming smile and a strong jaw. His hair was medium length, curling as the nape of his neck, but it worked well with his stature, “You’re the ‘fuck me’ guy!”

Race blinked, “Excuse me?”

The guy laughed, “You’re the guy who yelled fuck me when I scared you.”

Race’s eyes widened, “Wait, was it just me, or did you answer with ‘I mean, sure’.”

The guy blushed, but continued to grin, “No, you heard right. But, hey! Can you blame me? You’re easy on the eyes!”

Race blushed in return, “Oh, uhhh, I mean, you’re not too bad yourself.”

“You got a name,” The guy stated.

“I do,” Race said, a teasing smirk finding its way to his face.

“Shut up,” The guy rolled his eyes, “What is it?”

Race raised his eyebrows, “Why would I tell you if you want me to shut up?”

The guy groaned in mock frustration, then fixed Race with a pleading gaze, “I’m sorry. What’s your name? You gotta tell me or else you’ll just be the ‘fuck me guy’ in my head forever.”

Race threw his head back in laughter, “It’s Racetrack. Race for short.”

The guy furrowed his eyebrows together, “No, it’s not.”

“Correct, that’s just a nickname” Race said, “But you’ll have to go on a date with me to find out my real name.”

“You don’t know my name,” The guy said.

Race considered, then pulled out his phone, “Put your shit in there and I will.”

The guy took his phone and bit his lip as he put his information into Race’s contacts. 

He handed his phone back and smiled, “I’m expecting a text, pretty boy.”

Race took it back and looked at the information that the guy had just entered, “And I’m expecting an answer, Albert.”

Albert saluted, “Count on it, Racer. I have to go sign out, but I’ll see you soon.”

“Definitely.” With that, Albert turned and walked towards the staff building, leaving Race slightly awestruck. 

“Higgins!” He turned around to see Spot walking towards him, “Sorry I took so long, there was a really big line. With a haunted trail this popular, you’d think they’d invest in more than one porta potty.”

Race grimaced, “That’s rough, I’m sorry.”

Spot shrugged, “You good? You look shook.”

Race huffed out a laugh, shaking his head, “I’m really good. I got a dude’s number.”

Spot’s eyes widened, comically, “What!? Who?”

“Remember that clown in the circus tent that scared me?”

Spot nodded.

“Well, him. I crashed into him on my way to the bonfire and I don’t really know how, but now I’ve got his number and we’re gonna go on a date soon.”

Spot stared at him for a moment, then started laughing so hard he doubled over, “O-Ohmygod. It is so you to get a fuckin’ clown’s number,” He said between laughs.

“Hey! He’s very attractive under that clown nose and bloody circus suit,” Race said, beginning to laugh as well.

Spot shook his head and gave Race a clap on the back, “You’re ridiculous.”

Race flicked him in the arm and the two of them began their trek back to Spot’s car.

\--

To Albert: Hey, clownboy. It’s Race. Jacobi’s tomorrow at 1:00? 

From Albert: Sounds good, fuck me guy. I’ll see you then

**Author's Note:**

> Yeet


End file.
